Posted by hisdinner on April 13, 2006 at 22:32:36:
Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting every Thursday, 7 PM, Room 103, Methodist Church Education Building, 15345 S. Valley View Drive...
Brad gripped the clipboard, glanced around the room. Nobody was really paying attention, but he knew they were all curious. He could feel the eyes on him as he inclined his head again and answered the first question. Eight women, three guys. He already liked the odds. Ok—Head down, back to the questionnaire…
Hell, yes! Brad snorted. Then he remembered himself and covered his amusement with a cough. Wouldn't do to have the ladies catch on to his little game. For now, Brad figured, eyeing the curvy redhead across from him, he'd better play the part of someone who'd hit rock bottom. Another stifled smirk. He'd sure as hell like to hit HER rock-hard bottom with all 6 inches of his rock-hard—
But he was getting ahead of himself. He'd better get back to playing the sincere, tortured guy, desperate to get a little peace. A little piece—even better, Brad thought.
God, I love the Internet. Brad smiled. These self-help groups were a lot cheaper than adult dating sites and the women were ten times as desperate. He had printed out a list of the meetings in the city, and this one was midway through the list. Brad had been a busy boy. He'd honed his skills a lot since his first attempt. He looked down at the quiz again.
Brad realized he'd better settle down and get this thing filled out so he could join the crowd. Things were casual here, everybody drinking coffee and talking. At least two of the women had been sneaking glances at the Bradster. It was all he could do to not make a kissy-face back, but he'd learned at the first few Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings across town that kissy-faces were strongly discouraged.
Those stick-up-the-ass freaks made sure that things stayed all kosher. They kept the little boys separated from the little girls, just like back in elementary school. And hell, after sitting around, NOT flirting, most of these chicks were on fire to screw the minute they wrapped it up for the night. Brad smiled to himself and scanned the room again. That one over there…she looked about ready to explode. Mmm, strawberry blond. She'd explode real good, the BradMan thought. He took another shot at the questionnaire.
Right now, Brad was imagining that little blond rotating on a spit, with her luscious tits dripping Brad's special marinade. Now as long as he got her cooked up and the leftovers well-wrapped, Brad couldn't imagine how she'd interfere with any thing. No problem, no problem at all. Brad made a big fat X on "No."
Across the room, Maggie stifled a giggle as she caught Brad's leer. "That guy looks like fun," she whispered to Ruth, the jittery woman who'd handed Brad his questionnaire. "Bet he's got a great car, too."
Maggie could cum at the drop of her halter-top, but she if her date du jour had a hot car, she went right into sex goddess mode. She looked Brad's way again. "Oh yeah, that guy wants to give me a ride."
Ruth's mouth puckered as if she'd sucked a lemon. She hissed, "Walk the walk, Maggie!" and then walked away. Ruth was big on object lessons.
Maggie watched Brad finish the questionnaire and hand it to Ruth, the old dried stick who ran this meeting. Brad nodded at something the Gestapo lady said, and then turned Maggie's way. Maggie slipped her index finger into her mouth and sucked on it. Brad casually retrieved his clipboard from the table and held it in front of the brand new bulge in his pants.
"Meant to be, mm-hm." Brad could almost taste her.
It was a half-hour later, he'd just shot a mega load into little Maggie's mouth, and she showed no signs of flagging. This girl was great. He'd take her home and maybe fatten her a bit before he roasted her. If he could stand the wait. That mouth and those tasty tits said he could. He moaned and grabbed her little pixie chin.
"Honey? Want to go somewhere a lot more comfortable? I wanna fuck you right."
They were cramped into Brad's Beemer. Maggie licked her lips and nodded. Normally, Maggie and a BMW were tough to separate, but what the heck, hot car; he might be good for some Sugar Daddy time before she disappeared. She might even give him two whole nights.
Maggie sank into the Beemer's leather seat as Brad drove his little dinner-date home.
"Listen, honey, I need to run outside to the barbecue, fire it up. Don't you feel just like a big, juicy steak?" Brad squeezed Maggie's arms, ran his hands all over her breasts and down to her little fillet.
She nodded agreement, distracted by the room opening up behind her. Wow, this guy must be like, a car salesman or something. He was loaded.
"Hey, baby. Why don't you have a drink, get comfy."
"Mind if I check my email?" Maggie wanted to let her roomie know that she'd be away indefinitely. She wasn't taking her hooks out of this guy.
Brad thought about it. His Dolcett cartoons and Muki's pics were the first things she'd see, but hell, why not. This little piglet had calculators for eyes. She'd be so busy figuring out her game plan, she'd surf right past those girls in the giant frying pans.
Brad headed out back to fire up his custom grill while Maggie settled in. He heard a little "Whoa!" from her, caught her looking up. He gave her his best boyish grin. She shook out her momentary case of the willies and opened her Yahoo mail.
"Damn, this guy is really pervy!" Maggie typed to Debbie, her roommate. "He's also loaded, and so don't expect me till you see me. There is no way I am walking away from this. Oh yeah, Deb… hung like a horse, too. XXX OOO ttfn, maggiecreampie"
She grinned. So he had a couple fricking weird pictures of girls with honey dripping from them. Those girls were hot, hell, she'd do 'em. Maggie found her way to the kitchen and grabbed the pitcher of sangria Daddy BigBucks had put in to chill. She felt that sweet, hot ache starting to build again.
"I think I'll go see what Bradley's doing." And out into the firelit night she went.
Brad smiled at Maggie from the other side of the immense stone barbecue. "Did you bring one of those for me?"
Maggie giggled and set down the pitcher and some tumblers. "I don't think I could finish this by myself!" She'd have to, though, silly little thing. Brad had spiked this batch especially well. He'd be flat out in five minutes if he joined her for a glass.
Brad admired her shapely calves as she set the drinks down. He'd changed his mind. He always MEANT to keep one around awhile, sort of do a sex-slave, girl-cow thing with her, but somehow, once he had them in his sanctuary, he just couldn't hold back. The longest he'd ever gone before he threw one on the fire was, hm…an afternoon? And that delay was all the plumber's fault; the guy took five hours to do a two hour job, and charged him—
Brad chuckled as he watched the luscious Maggie go all woozy and sink onto the chaise lounge. He made a kissy face at her and she giggled, tried to blow back the kiss, and failed. She dissolved into a giggling, warm, sexy pile of dozing girl.
"You go ahead and nap, honey. I can handle it from here." Brad lifted up the squirmy sleepy girl and carried her to the utility room for a little cleaning up. He couldn't wait to strip her bare and get her ready for the fire. Now, now now…
"Oops, I did it again," he whistled as went to fetch his marinade, a little later.
It was Tuesday night, 7:30, Conference Room 206 at the Central City Library. Brad huddled over his questionnaire and tried to keep his face straight. Did it take more frequency? Come to think of it, yeah. He WAS having to go out more often on these girlmeat runs. Not that his excitement level was hard to come by. "Hard to come by!"
He had to chuckle at his choice of words. He heard a stifled "Hmf!" and looked up.
Bet that tight-lipped woman to his right wouldn't find his little double-entendres nearly so amusing. She had a hot body. What a waste, Brad thought. Those are the gals he really ought to be culling from this little herd. The ones who really bought all this malarkey. Brad winked and kissy-faced the air. Miss Tight Ass jumped up and went off to report him. Guess he wouldn't be trolling this meeting again, any time soon.
Back to the question. Did he need more variety to get off these days? He thought back to last Thursday night with Maggie…
Brad prided himself on matching his preparation methods to the piglet. Now, Maggie was a compact package of tenderness. His hands roamed over her body, caressing that silky flesh. Fresh from her scrubbing, waking up, Maggie moaned and begged for more. That's what Brad liked the best about his sex-addicted piglets. They all wanted it so much.
He turned the drowsy girl over, onto her belly so that he could admire her ass. Magnificent! Why did girls work so hard to lose this biteable, juicy goodness? Brad would never know. So good, she deserves my special brand. Yes.
He walked back out to the fire and grabbed the insulated handle of his iron. He was as hard as he could be, walking back to the sleepy, sexy girl who decorated his table so well. The fire was perfect now, but what were a few minutes more when he had a girl like Maggie moaning for him? Brad couldn't decide—before or after? When he saw that ass again, indecision time was over. He found the center of one perfect globe and pressed the white hot iron home.
He'd found that girls were at their tightest when he gave them a little goose like that. With Maggie screaming and writhing, Brad pulled her backward and onto his cock. Oh god, how she bucked and came alive, even as he tightened his hands around her slender neck. They'd slid backward off the table and stood, and Maggie's arms went up, encircling his own neck as he held tight to hers.
Brad forced Maggie's body hard against the table now, his cock impaled so deep in her. He could feel the heat of her brand against his body, feel her spasms as she gasped and tried to get one last sip of sweet, Sugar-Daddied air. Brad fingers pressed deep and strong into her throat. He came hard as he felt her struggles cease; he caught her as she slumped against him. Brad smacked his lips and carried his girlmeat to the fire.
------------------------------------------
"You finished with that silly ol' questionnaire?" Marci fiddled with her lower lip and winked. She stood close enough so that Brad could see the sweet heaven in her C cups.
"I sure am, darlin'," Brad grinned. "What do you say we see if, tonight—"
Brad ran a finger up to those pouty lips and watched his finger disappear inside. He moaned.
"What do you say if we just blow this joint and I do my best to light your fire?"